Not Tonight
by marysunshine81
Summary: This story begins where episode 2x8 ended.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I couldn't ignore the voices in my head, so I ended up writing this 'thing'. I'm not sure if it's a one-shot, or if I will continue, I guess a lot depends on what happens to McHart on the show and how loud those voices will be in my head. Also I need to point out that writing 'drugged' Diane is a challenge I'm not even sure I'm up for, so if she sounds too sane I apologize._

 _Any mistakes are mine._

* * *

 **Not Tonight**

 _She'd left the office without anyone noticing it, since she wasn't in the mood for a celebration. She preferred the silence and darkness of her own apartment. When she reached for the phone in her purse, she expected to see another missed call from him, but the screen was blank. She felt relieved._

 _She'd already made a decision earlier, and there was no need for another one. She was aware that they had to talk, but it was too early. Her wounds were still deep and her bed still probably smelled from another man. She needed space and time to figure this mess out._

 _She didn't want to leave him in the dark too long, maybe for a few more days. She hoped he would understand, that he would understand her even without words._

 _She would call him eventually, but not tonight._

o-o-o

The next days ran by rather fast. She buried herself in work, her everyday distraction. From time to time there was a missed call from Kurt on her device. That's how she knew he still tried, that he still cared. It crossed her mind that if she waited for too long, he might eventually give up. That wasn't what she wanted though. She was just looking for the right moment to call him back.

One night she was scrolling through her missed calls from the day to make sure she returned them all, when the realization hit her hard. There was no missed call from him since the previous day. Maybe it was selfish to wait on his calls without giving anything in return, but she felt she had the right to torture him like that. What if he'd had enough?

She doubled checked the date of all his calls, then placed the phone on the dining room table with the screen down. She wasn't prepared to talk to him yet, and she immediately felt the butterflies in her stomach. If she had to call him tonight, the first thing she needed was a drink, so she poured herself a glass of Scotch.

Once the liquid began to burn her throat she already felt slightly braver. At least she was certain he was hundreds of miles away, so she didn't have to worry about him showing up anytime soon. She could probably handle a phone call, no matter what the outcome.

She finished the drink before reaching for the phone again, but she kept staring at his name for a while. She knew what was at stake based on the outcome of this call. She was still wearing his wedding ring. This man was her husband for better or worse. And lately the worse had definitely overcome the better.

And she couldn't only blame him, because she'd been just as guilty. The only difference was that he had no idea about the things she'd done. She may have seemed to have the higher ground during their fight the other day, but what she had done was probably worse. Which was all the more reason for her to finally hear him out.

When she tapped his name on the screen and began to listen to the even tune, she felt her heart beating faster. She began to circle around the table to calm her nerves, waiting for him to pick it up. He took his time and it even crossed her mind what if he would ignore her call just like she'd ignored his.

The ringing was suddenly over, and she wasn't sure if it was because it reached the limit, or someone answered the call, because she'd been too lost in her thoughts. She had to look at the screen, where she saw the counter, that's how she realized he'd picked up.

"Kurt?" she called his name, rather desperately, because the other end of the line was completely silent.

It was already late in L.A. too, so he was most likely in his hotel room, getting ready for bed or doing some work. She didn't want her call to inconvenience him.

"I'm here." The familiar voice finally broke the silence and she sighed with relief, even though that was all he said.

He wasn't making it easy for her, and she couldn't even blame him after all this time. She needed to show some encouragement.

"You called," she stated the obvious. She hadn't counted, but he must have called at least a dozen times.

"I did."

Under different circumstances his short answer would probably have made her chuckle. _Oh, he of few words._ But now wasn't the time for any teasing. They were in for a serious conversation.

"I just needed some time," she explained what she hoped he had guessed.

"I figured. You still angry?" His cautious question reminded her of their ugly fight, not that she had been able to forget.

"Not right now," she reassured him. She wished to keep her calm, but this conversation was also completely unpredictable.

"Good. You should have let me explain," he insisted. And maybe he was right, but she couldn't take it all back now.

"There shouldn't be anything to explain," she pointed out. What she'd found out from that woman still hurt.

"Okay. So what do you want me to do then?" He sounded completely clueless, but ready for anything.

"I appreciate what you've been doing for _the firm_ , but it's probably for the best if you don't testify for us in the future," she explained the only possible solution.

"I wasn't doing it for _the firm_ ," he protested calmly, stressing the word just like she had.

"I know and I honestly appreciate it."

She had been aware that he'd been doing it all for her, even before the opposition pointed it out. And she selfishly accepted his help, without giving too much in return. Because his wish, to move in together, she was unable to fulfill.

"I barely see you, at least it gave me a reason to be around," he admitted, and she couldn't deny that it was her fault.

"I liked it too," she confessed, giving him mixed signals once again.

She did like having him around, why couldn't she agree to moving in with him? She wasn't sure of the answer. He'd given her space and time, yet they were farther from each other now than a few months ago.

"Will you ever be able to truly forgive me?" He was the one giving the answer to her unvoiced question. And his words echoed in her head for a while before she was able to say something.

"I was working on it."

She wanted to try and forgive him for his infidelity. It had been a process, with its ups and downs. Sometimes she'd missed him so much that she hated herself for keeping him away. But the information she'd just learnt in court proved to her that she'd been smart not to rush into any decision.

"And now you aren't anymore?" He sounded disappointed, sad even.

"I don't know. Why is she still part of your life?" She didn't want to talk about the other woman, but the topic was the elephant in the room they couldn't ignore.

"She isn't," he insisted, yet she was still unable to believe him.

"That's not what she said," she reminded him of the facts she'd been confronted with in the courtroom.

"Then she lied," he declared, and it sounded odd from his mouth. Not long ago he'd been so protective of the same person he just called a liar.

"And yet you still refused to discredit her," she recalled with a sigh. She didn't want to pick a fight. She liked that they were both able to stay calm during this discussion.

"Diane, I don't care about what the jury thinks of me, all I care about is what you think." His confession brought a barely visible smile on her face. He may have been a man of few words, but the ones he used usually spoke for a thousand others.

"Then you wouldn't want to peek inside my head at this moment," she hit a slightly joky tone, rather unintentionally.

"Is it that bad?" He inquired, without sounding too worried.

"Well, a few days ago it was a lot worse," she admitted the truth.

She'd had time to think, to weigh in the facts and her feelings for him. It was inacceptable to her that he still had any contact with the woman he'd cheated on her with. That was pretty much a deal breaker to her, and he should have known that.

"So there is still hope?"

His question was perfectly justified, yet, she didn't want to answer it right now. It was something they needed to discuss in person. But she was glad they finally talked and that they did it without arguing. Although a lot was most likely left unsaid.

"We should meet, when you get back to Chicago," she offered, taking comfort at the fact that she would have time to prepare for that occasion.

"How do you know I'm not in Chicago?" He couldn't just let it slide, taking her off guard.

"I'd rather not answer that," she tried to avert the question. She wasn't proud of her method, but she'd only done it to protect herself. And she was grateful to Marissa for helping her out.

"Okay, sure, I'll give you a call when I'm back," he accepted her silence rather easily. It didn't make a difference anyway.

"And I promise to take it, or call you back if I can't." It was the least she could say after ignoring his call for days. She was relieved he hadn't taken offence though.

"I'd appreciate that," he reassured her softly.

A few seconds of silence followed while she contemplated what else to say. She could have told him so many things, that included more than one confession.

"Kurt,…" she called his name, then paused, unsure what to say.

' _I'm afraid if I tell you, you won't want to see me again.' 'I don't think that's possible.'_ She remembered their conversation so clearly. The tables may have turned since then, but some day, she would have to tell him _her truth_.

"Yes?" he asked encouragingly, he didn't rush to end the conversation either.

But she felt they had talked more than enough, for now. It was the start of a road, even though neither of them knew where it led. Eventually they would find out.

"Good night." She closed the conversation and hung up immediately.

She was afraid to hear his reply and didn't want anything to ruin their slight progress. She wasn't angry with him anymore, she was still hurt though, which was probably worse. She had no idea what he could do to change that. But one thing was certain, he wouldn't have been able to hurt her again, if she wasn't still in love with him.

The feeling rooted so deep inside her that nothing had been able to destroy it. And it hurt her enormously that he wasn't necessarily worthy of her love. Not to mention she wasn't worthy of _his_ either. She'd also cheated on him, and he didn't even suspect anything. She was unable to predict how he would react once he found out. Whether they would be able to emerge from this mess they had created was definitely a question for the future.

She only realized now that her hand, not the one holding the phone, was shaking. She was too focused on the conversation to notice the symptoms of her own body. Maybe she needed another drink, or something stronger that would make her not care. So naturally she reached for the small phial hiding on the bottom of her purse.

She would deal with the reality again some other time.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Episode 2x10 inspired me to go on with this fic. When we saw Colin's reaction on the show, I wished we could have seen Kurt's. I tried to make it happen with this chapter. I hope it's not too OOC.  
_

 _Any mistakes are mine._

* * *

 **Chapter Two  
**

 _A partner was shot at the law firm Reddick, Boseman & Lockhart._

 _And Lockhart…Lockhart…Lockhart…_

Her name kept echoing loudly in his head as he pulled up with his car in a parking spot. He could only hope he hadn't run any red lights, because he was unable to vouch for any of his actions from the moment he'd heard the news on the radio.

Reaching for his phone in a rush, he dialed her number. One ring, two rings, three rings, his heart was beating twice as fast. And when the call disconnected, he considered throwing his phone away. He'd been listening to those rings too often in the last weeks, but it was all different now. He couldn't just move on with his day until he made sure she was okay.

He decided to dial the office, but the line was busy and he was unable to get through to a real person. He angrily punched the steering wheel, feeling completely helpless. There was only one solution he could think of, he had to drive to her office to find out what happened.

But once he got there he was forced to face other obstacles. They wouldn't let anyone in who wasn't on a stupid list, and it didn't matter that he kept repeating that he was married to one of the name partners, the guards didn't care. And on top of that they didn't want to answer the only question he had. He had to know which partner had been shot.

It couldn't have been Diane. He wouldn't have that. She had to be fine. He couldn't imagine anything like that happen to her. He needed her to be well, and not knowing the truth was killing him.

He had to think of all the time they had spent apart, that they should have spent together instead. And it was his fault. If anything had happened to Diane he would never forgiven himself. They used to be so happy, they could still be happy if it hadn't been for his infidelity. He hated himself more in that moment than ever before.

He was walking back and forth, with his eyes on the door. He observed everyone going in and coming out. Maybe he would recognize someone he knew, who could provide information to him about Diane. Or maybe he would be able to spot her and all his questions would be answered.

He even thought about calling all the major hospitals to ask if they had a patient under the name Diane Lockhart, but he feared the answer as much as he wished to know. Instead he silently tried to persuade himself that she was all right.

Time was going by so slowly and when he reached for his phone again to place another call to her, he realized it was dead. He needed all his self-control not to crash the device into the ground. He should have gone back to his car, to charge the phone, but he didn't want to leave, not until he had an answer.

o-o-o

He couldn't believe his eyes when an eternity later he noticed Marissa Gold, Diane's assistant, approach the entrance.

"I'm sorry, but could you please tell me what's going on? I heard there was a shooting. Is Diane all right?" He ambushed the young woman, but hoped that under the circumstances she wouldn't mind.

"Mr. McVeigh," Marissa let out a barely visible smile, "god you look awful," she added, with her usual honesty. Under different circumstances she would have made him laugh, but now he only raised a brow waiting for her real answer. "I'm sorry, yes, Ms. Lockhart is all right, it was Mr. Boseman who got shot. Diane is still at the hospital, I think. That's where I last saw her."

 _She is all right, all right._ He kept repeating it to himself, trying to get the tension out of his system. He began to take control over his own breathing again and hoped his heartbeat would slow down eventually.

"Which hospital? I need to see her," he still didn't sound calm though, but at least he was aware of that.

"Chicago Memorial. But are you sure you're okay? Can I get you a glass of water?" she offered and he appreciated her helpfulness. In fact he was grateful to her for getting him out of his long misery.

"I am now. Thanks to you. I was worried. I couldn't reach Diane," he admitted what was probably obvious. He didn't even care that he may have sounded ridiculous.

"Of course you were. I'm sure she will be happy to see you. It's a nightmare," Marissa noted and her comment reminded him that he was too focused on Diane to ask about Adrian's state.

"How is Mr. Boseman?" he voiced the question with a hint of guilt.

"He's in surgery," she responded, but his mind was already somewhere else again.

A few minutes ago he'd been worried for Diane's life and now he began to worry about what she was probably going through, _all over again_.

"Can't believe this happened again," he voiced his concerns.

"I know what you mean," Marissa responded with an understanding look, not needing an explanation. They were both thinking of the same events that had happened in the past. "Let's hope for the best. I'm sorry, but I have to go. You'll be okay?" She asked one last time.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much." He raised an arm to maybe touch her shoulder, but thought better of it. It would have been awkward.

"Of course," Marissa flashed an encouraging smile before she left him alone with his thoughts again.

As relieved as he was that it hadn't been Diane, now he had to remember the last time Diane's partner had been shot. It had been years, but he knew Diane still remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. Will Gardner hadn't only been her business partner, but also a close friend. And she'd never really managed to get over his death.

He wasn't sure what was the situation between Diane and her 'new' partner, Adrian. But whether they were just partners, or friends as well, he assumed Diane still got affected by this tragedy. He wished nothing but to be there for her in this moment. He rushed to his car to get to the hospital as soon as possible, hoping to find her there.

Once his phone was working again he gave her another call, and this time he got the busy signal. So he kept calling and calling, hoping to get through to her. But he couldn't. And his frustration was over the roof by now. He just wanted to pull her in his arms and be thankful that he was still able to do that. No matter what had happened between them lately, he hoped she would let him hug her tightly, in fact he felt that was exactly what she needed right now.

Unfortunately Diane wasn't in the hospital anymore and he was getting tired of chasing her like that. At least he needed to hear her voice, but that line was still busy. He was aware that under the circumstances Diane must have had a lot on her plate, and he knew her well enough to assume she was busy taking care of everything she needed to. She probably had no time for him right now and he needed to accept that. Maybe it was selfish that he still wanted to see her. She was okay, he had to make do with that for now.

He got back to his car and decided to drive home. He didn't feel like waiting in front of the office anymore and he didn't suppose she would go home anytime soon. All he could do was try calling her and hope that they would be able to talk on the phone eventually.

o-o-o

It was almost 9 pm when his cell phone started to ring. He was on the sofa, with the TV on. He'd been working all afternoon, to keep his mind busy, and almost dozed off watching a random movie.

The happiness he felt when he saw who was calling was enormous. And he rushed to mute the TV so he could answer her call.

"Diane, thank god," he skipped the greeting and let out all his frustration right at the start.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier." As tired as her voice sounded, he still couldn't believe he was finally hearing it.

"It's fine, I…I'm just so happy to hear your voice." He could have held back, but he didn't want to. Their last conversation on the phone, their fight, what had happened in court, it all didn't matter to him at that moment, and he could only hope she felt the same way.

"It was an awful day," she stated and he really hated that many miles were standing between them at that moment.

"I know, I was so worried. Hope Adrian is doing okay." At least now he remembered to ask, although it was more important for him to know how she was doing.

"The doctors are optimistic." Her voice was very weak and he wished there was something he could do for her beside listening to her. He wasn't sure she would let him, but her call was already a good sign.

"I heard it on the news, that a partner at your firm had been shot. I feared it was you," he admitted.

"It all happened so fast, I should have called you back earlier." Her voice sounded numb.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad you're okay." He wanted to say so much more, but he tried hard to control himself. They were still separated. Did he even have the right?

"Are you at the farm?" He hadn't counted with such a question. So far it had sounded like a polite call, no matter how much he'd wished for it to be more.

"Yes. Want me to come over? Or you could come over." He couldn't help himself, assuming that was what she'd aimed for with her inquiry. He didn't even care if he sounded pushy.

"I don't want to be alone," her confession was the sentence he hadn't even hoped to hear from her that night, but it simply made him happy. He wanted to be needed by her, to be there for her and he was grateful she would let him.

"I'll meet you anywhere, just tell me where." He meant what he said, he would have done anything to be able to see her right now.

"I can't believe this happened again." Her voice trembled and he could swear he heard her fight with tears.

"I know, I'm so sorry. Where are you?" There was only so much he was able to do through the line, he needed to go there and actually comfort her in person. That was the only way.

"At the hospital. I'm about to go home."

He wasn't even surprised she was at the hospital at this late hour, despite the day she must have had, to be there for her partner. It only made him admire her even more. But she needed to think of herself too, and if she wasn't, he would do that for her.

"I'll get in the car right away. Want me to pick you up?" He offered, while he was already on his way to the door. He didn't need anything, only her company.

"Let's meet at home," she suggested instead and he was already next to his car, ready to jump in.

"I'm on my way," he meant it literally, as he was about to start the engine.

"Kurt?" She called his name, and he stopped what he was doing to simply listen to her. He could swear his name never sounded like this from her mouth before.

"I'm here," he reassured her in a soft tone.

"Thank you." It was all she said before she hung up, but these two words meant everything to him at that moment.

Not that he needed to be thanked for anything. There was no question in his mind that he was only doing what he had to. Being there for his wife, the woman he loved with all his heart, who meant everything to him. And finally tonight he would probably be able to show it to her again.

o-o-o

"Hey." She opened the door not long after his knock. She was still wearing her work clothes and looked very exhausted.

He couldn't describe how it felt to see her in person after this day. And since he was unable to say anything he simply took her in his arms and held her as tight as it was humanly possible without hurting her.

His hug expressed all the different feelings he'd been dealing with today. The fear, the worry, but most importantly the love. He loved her more than anything and nothing proved that more than that the mere possibility of losing her had driven him crazy.

But the nightmare was over. She was in his arms, returning his hug and holding him just as tight. She clearly needed this contact just as much as him. And when he noticed that she was shaking a little, he realized she needed it even more than him. She was crying.

He pulled them from the door and pushed it close with his foot. He didn't want to let go of her until she required his closeness.

Later she pulled away and he noticed that she was a bit embarrassed, trying to hide her gaze and dry her tears. It really wasn't natural that they would greet each other like this, especially considering what had happened between them a few weeks ago. But he didn't think she had any reason to be embarrassed.

"Thank you so much for coming over," she cleared her throat and lead him to the living room, where they both sat on the couch. He made sure not to sit too close to her, to give her some space.

"Of course. Nowhere else I'd rather be," he admitted and tried to make eye contact with her, but he was unable to. "How are you?" he inquired softly, to encourage her to speak.

"I have no idea how I got through this day. It feels good to let the tension out a bit," she admitted as she reached for the glass of wine on the small table in front of them.

"You should. I'm here. To talk, not talk, anything you need." He realized he may have sounded too eager, but he simply wanted her to feel comfortable in his company.

"I know we need to talk, about us, but not tonight," she spoke again, while she moved a finger round and round the rim of the glass.

"That's fine," he reassured her and felt rather helpless watching her state. It had been so much easier to comfort her when she'd been in his arms.

"It could have been me," she heaved, making him understand what was going on in her head. She was scared and he would have given anything to make sure she was safe.

"I would do anything to protect you, I hope you know that," he stated even though there wasn't much he could do. He wasn't even in the city most of the time, because that's how she'd wanted it.

"You gave me a gun. It's in my purse. I kept it in my drawer, but now it's with me." This was the moment when she finally raised her eyes to look straight into his.

"As long as it makes you feel safe," he noted proudly. He could only imagine how much courage this step had taken her, considering she still wasn't fully comfortable around guns.

"I think it does. Although Adrian was shot out of the blue, there was no way he could have defended himself. I'm really scared." It wasn't like her to admit to any weakness, but if she could be honest with anyone, it was definitely him.

"I know, I'm scared too. Scared of losing you. For a few hours today, I didn't know if you were still alive. I was terrified I'd never see you again." He reached for her hand, mainly to have something to hold onto. It had been one of the scariest days of his life and he couldn't be more grateful that they were together at this moment.

She placed the glass back on the table and pressed his hand that had been holding hers. He needed her comfort just like she needed his. She slowly closed the little space he'd left between them on the couch and leaned against his side, placing her head on his shoulder. So naturally he moved his arm to her back and pulled her even closer.

They were sitting there silently, appreciating each other's closeness. After a while he noticed that she was finally calm, her body began to relax and her breathing got even. It seemed like she was about to fall asleep in his arms, but he didn't mind. He was more than happy to be there to guard her dreams.


End file.
